Wounded
by ponygirl72
Summary: 9th Doctor, Rose, hc. Rose loses her innocence. Dark. Seriously, folks.


_Author's note: Once again, folks, this is NOT a happy fic. There's an attempted rape, and a graphic death scene. If that doesn't sound like something you want to read then, well... DON'T. You've been warned!_

**Wounded**

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Thump, thump._

_Thump, thump. Thump._

The Doctor steadied the punching bag hanging from the ceiling of the storage room that Ace had converted into a gym, lifetimes ago.

"That's it, now use the force of your whole body, not just your arms. Shift your weight and step into it a bit."

_Thump._

_Thump, THUMP._

"Better!" he congratulated, taking the opportunity to study his young companion while she was occupied by the bag.

It had been the morning after they had left the planet Maetrios that Rose had approached him and asked him to teach her self-defense. Each morning of the three days since, they had come to the gym and he had shown her some simple throws, vulnerable points common to most humanoids, the basics of how to kick, hit, and bite.

Her demeanor did not change during those three days. She showed up dressed in a shapeless track suit, her pale face devoid of makeup, and absorbed everything he showed her with an intensity that he found a bit disturbing.

As the days passed, he watched the bruises on her face and neck turn from black and blue to brown and yellow. She wouldn't let him treat them in the TARDIS's medical bay.

When she wasn't training in the gym, she made herself scarce. He assumed she was keeping up with the essentials, like sleeping and eating.

Well, he _hoped_ she was keeping up with the essentials, like sleeping and eating.

It worried him that he hadn't seen her cry.

-----

_Four days earlier..._

Rose walked next to the Doctor, taking in the sights as they explored a nameless village on the planet Maetrios. Her companion was currently lecturing her on the importance of the Black Plague in Europe's transformation from feudalism to capitalism, gesturing animatedly to drive home the important points.

"So, y'see, it was the sudden shortage of labour that allowed the survivors of the plague to barter for more freedoms, fair wages, private property and the like... all because of a shipload of diseased, flea-infested rats!" He grinned manically, indicating their surroundings. "But on _this_ planet..."

The small homes-- hovels, really-- lining the main road were cobbled together from the materials at hand, a mixture of natural products like wood and thatch as well as pieces of metal and synthetics that seemed to have come from something much more advanced. Poultry scratched and pecked in the small garden plots surrounding the little huts, and larger fields full of crops were visible in the distance. In the other direction, square factories belched smoke into the greenish sky. The surrounding hills were dotted with a few larger, rich-looking estates and manor houses.

Rose looked around her at the obvious poverty and squalor. "So they never had a plague here-- never moved out of the Dark Ages? Wouldn't the common people just get sick of it eventually and stage a rebellion or something?"

Occasionally, an elderly man or woman would peek out of a doorway as they passed, peering at the strange pair suspiciously. Twice, they passed women in shapeless, hooded robes carrying baskets of produce. Both times Rose got just a glimpse of a young, pretty face before the girls pulled their hoods further forward and scurried off in apparent fear. She wondered if they had a taboo against letting their heads be seen, like some Muslims back home. They didn't see any of the younger men-- Rose assumed they were all working in the factories or the fields.

The Doctor nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes, I'm sure rebellion is an ongoing concern for the ruling class here. On the other hand, as technology advances, so do the methods for keeping a population under control. And make no mistake, these people are carefully controlled."

He pointed up at something Rose had assumed was a utility pole. Looking more closely, she saw the video surveillance camera at the top. A shiver crawled through her as the lens turned, following their progress down the street.

In front of them, the road opened up into a modest square, with more of the older people set up around the perimeter with food and other goods spread out on blankets around them, bartering their meagre possessions.

"Hungry?" asked the Doctor.

"Why, d'you think they have any chips here?" she asked cheekily, and was rewarded with a grin from her companion.

As they entered the square, though, she was overcome in mid-step by a sudden tingling sensation and everything went foggy for a moment.

An instant or an eternity later, her vision cleared and she stumbled off of a metal and plastic platform surrounded by pulsing neon tubes, into a plain room with concrete walls and a central workstation of some kind.

_Like a transporter beam from Star Trek,_ she thought, looking around for the Doctor, who was no place to be seen. _Not good._

A thin, hook-nosed figure detached himself from the workstation and trained a stubby raygun on her. His clothes were of much better quality than what the villagers had worn, but they hung on his gaunt frame loosely.

"Who the hell are you and what do you think you're playing at? Where's my friend-- the man who was with me?" Rose demanded querulously.

"Quiet, girl!" snapped Hook-nose. He approached her confidently, twisting one arm behind her back and poking the gun into her spine. "You are in the estate of Lord Degross of Aveen, and you will be placed under his custody until he chooses to grant you an audience."

"All right! All right!" she protested as he manhandled her out the door. "I know the drill-- keep your shirt on!"

A short hallway led from the room to what Rose could only call a dungeon, complete with iron bars and everything. Some of the cells appeared empty, but a few were occupied-- all by women as far as she could tell. Unlike the villagers, they wore simple dresses instead of hiding under cloaks, and from what she could see they were all young and pretty.

Hook-nose stopped in front of an empty cell and shoved her through the door, clanging it shut behind her. Catching herself on the low bench at the back, she turned to give him what for, but was stopped by the cold smile he wore.

"An exotic beauty, indeed. I think m'lord will be quite taken with you... _quite_ taken..." he said as he left the row of cells.

"Hey!" she shouted after him. "Hey, stop! What's that supposed to mean?"

But he was already gone.

Returning to the bars, she examined her surroundings as best she could. Across the corridor, one of the other prisoners was watching her cautiously. She was very young and very beautiful, with long dark hair and large brown eyes, only the reddish-orange cast of her complexion marking her as alien.

Taking the initiative, she called out, "Hello! My name's Rose. So, what are you in for, then?"

The other girl seemed perplexed.

"You do not know why we are here-- truly?"

"Er, let's just pretend that I don't," replied Rose. "Humour me, I'm not from around here."

Her new friend acknowledged this obvious statement with a nod.

"We are here for the pleasure of Lord Degross. He takes us from the village if he wants us, and uses us for his pleasure until he tires of us. You were tempting fate sorely by flaunting your face and body so openly in the village. Degross has eyes everywhere."

Rose looked down at her t-shirt and track pants.

"You're kidding, right?" Then, remembering the surveillance cameras, and the frightened women hiding under hoods, her heart sank. "OK, you're not kidding. How can he get away with that? Why doesn't someone do something? It's barbaric!"

"What would we do? Degross has weapons, technology. We do not. As long as I please him, I will live. When he tires of me, I will die. Now that you are here, I suspect my time is short. Still, I will offer this piece of advice. Don't fight him. Fighting makes it worse."

Rose turned away, disgust and fear warring within her.

Hours passed. She had spent the first twenty minutes looking for a way to escape, and had basically confirmed that she was in an empty room with a bench hewn out of the wall, a latrine that was nothing more than a hole in the floor with some kind of harsh smelling chemical in the bottom, a recessed light fixture that she couldn't reach, and a bunch of thick iron bars with a heavy lock to which she did not have the key. She spent the next few hours trying to convince herself that this Degross character probably wouldn't get around to her anytime soon, and besides, the Doctor would show up anytime now and get her out. She spent the rest of the time studiously not thinking about what it would be like to be raped.

When the door opened at the end of the prison area, she looked up hopefully, but instead of the cavalry, it was Hook-nose, leading a broad, muscular man in embroidered finery. And, yeah, they were coming right toward her cell.

"A fine choice, m'lord," Hook-nose was saying. "An exotic beauty from far-off lands, as you can see."

The newcomer-- Degross, she presumed-- looked her over like a piece of prime beef, and the panic that had been thrumming in the background of her mind rushed up, causing her heart to pound in her chest like a drum.

Degross pulled out another one of the stubby rayguns and pointed it at her as Hook-nose opened the door.

"Come," he said.

With no prospect of rescue at hand, Rose flung herself at the nobleman, trying to knock his gun away, to get loose, to run. He grabbed her hair with his free hand and yanked her off balance, laughing at her as he forced her down to her knees.

"Well, now, aren't you a little firebrand? No matter... you'll learn manners soon enough."

He raised the butt of the gun over her head and slammed it down on the junction of her neck and shoulder. Pain blossomed, and the world went black.

She awoke with a jolt of adrenaline, the fight-or-flight instinct kick-starting her brain and pushing the pain in her neck and head down to manageable levels. She was in a dim room, on a bed. She tried to roll to the side, but metal bands bit into her wrists and ankles, holding her spreadeagled to the bedposts. She looked around the room frantically, taking in the elegant furnishings. Her eyes settled on the bearlike figure of Degross, who turned from stirring up the massive fireplace when he heard her move.

"Awake at last, firebrand?" he said, replacing the poker and drawing his gun as he crossed to the bed. "I wouldn't want you to miss anything, after all."

She wished her mouth wasn't so dry, so she could spit at him.

He stroked her face with the end of the gun, trailing it down her neck, and then lower still. She writhed against the manacles holding her to the bed.

"GET OFF!" she yelled as loud as she could into his face. "You slimy bastard..."

He only leered at her. "I don't think so, firebrand-- at least not yet."

Placing the gun on a table by the bed, he drew a wicked looking dagger from his belt. Rose closed her eyes, panting with fear as his free hand trailed to the neck of her shirt and hooked it. She could feel the razor sharp blade a hairsbreadth from her flesh as he sliced through the flimsy cotton material. When he was done with the shirt, he flicked through the thin straps securing her bra, baring her chest.

"Very nice," he said in a low voice. "Now, let's see what else you have for me."

With her eyes still tightly closed, Rose tried to will herself out of her body as the hand moved to the waistband of her pants.

_This is not happening... this is not happening..._

Suddenly, muffled noises erupted from outside the closed door of the bedroom.

Degross straightened angrily and strode away.

"You ignorant hook-nosed scarecrow," he growled, the volume of his voice rising as he approached the entryway, "I said 'no distractions!'"

Rose watched from the bed as the door slid open to reveal the person she wanted to see most in the whole of time and space.

"Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?" snapped Degross, taking in the strangely clothed, pale skinned individual before him.

The Doctor flashed his trademark snarky grin.

"Hello! I'm the Doctor," his eyes slid past Degross to take in the scene, and a dangerous expression clouded his face. "And this is my friend Rose..."

In one smooth movement, he sent the nobleman's dagger skittering across the floor, grabbed the back of Degross's head and brained him against the door frame. The larger man sprawled insensate in front of the fireplace.

"Pick on someone your own size," he shot down at the oblivious form, and quickly moved to the bed.

Rose swallowed hard as he approached, trying not to cry, not to die of shame. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over her, covering her.

"Are you all right?" he asked worriedly.

"I am now," she said shakily. "Just please get me loose."

He nodded and pulled out the sonic screwdriver.

"Rose, I'm so sorry this happened. It took me this long to track the transmat beam to this estate. The TARDIS materialised in the dungeon, and I released the other girls. One of them told me where to find you."

"It's all right. Nick of time and all that, eh?"

"Almost," he said roughly, looking unconvinced.

When her arms were free, she awkwardly half-sat and half-leaned, shrugging into the too-large leather jacket and closing the front as he released one ankle.

She glanced up from the closures and gasped, "Doctor, look out!"

He spun away from her, only to fall to the floor with a grunt as Degross slammed the fireplace poker against the side of his head.

The flushed nobleman shot her a malicious, twisted leer, and said pointedly, "I'll deal with you shortly."

He crossed the room and retrieved his dagger, then returned to stand over the unconscious form of the time lord.

"And as for you, you insolent commoner, that's the last mistake you'll ever make."

"No!" shrieked Rose, looking around frantically. Her eyes fell on the gun on the table next to the bed, and she lunged sideways, hand closing around the weapon as she overbalanced and fell to the floor, striking her cheekbone sharply on the table edge on the way down. Her vision swum crazily as she lay crumpled, half-hanging from the ankle that was still manacled to the bed.

"Put that down, you stupid little beast!"

Degross's snarling tone penetrated the fog in her mind, and she focussed muzzily on the broad figure bearing down on her.

She pointed the stubby end of the gun at him and pushed the big red button.

A blue lightning bolt shot from the end and connected with the right side of his ribcage with a flash. He collapsed slowly, his face landing inches from her hip. He made some accusatory choking sounds at her, and seconds later the light faded from his eyes, freezing his face permanently into a stupid-looking expression of shock.

_Yeah, take that, you slimy pervert, _she thought, a bit hysterically. _You're not so tough , now. You can't have my body. You can't ever touch me again..._

She continued to watch him, wondering vaguely why it was getting so cold in here, and why her hands and feet were going numb. She couldn't see the Doctor because of the bed, but she heard him groan and let loose a string of rude words in some alien language.

"Rose!" he said frantically, and staggered around to her side of the bed, quickly taking in the scene.

"Oh," he breathed, "Oh, Rose..."

She watched as he shoved the corpse out of the way and knelt beside her.

"Give me the gun, Rose."

She looked down and discovered that she was still clutching the pistol tightly. She handed it to him carefully, surprised by the degree to which her hands were trembling. He laid the weapon aside and quickly released her ankle.

"Can you walk?" he asked gently. "I need to destroy the transmat device and the surveillance equipment. The TARDIS is in the prison area."

She nodded and rose unsteadily. He guided her past the unconscious figure of Hook-nose outside the door, and down the stairs to the dungeon. She stood by as he did something to the equipment that resulted in a shower of sparks, and then allowed herself to be ushered into the TARDIS. He turned to look at her and reached a hand toward her bruised cheek.

"You're hurt. Come to the medical bay so I can treat that."

Suddenly feeling trapped, she blocked his hand and stepped away, putting space between them.

"It's nothing. Don't make a fuss over it..."

"Rose--"

Her voice rose in pitch. "Just leave it be, alright? It's nothing!"

Turning, she practically ran out of the console room, down the corridor and into her bedroom. Setting the shower as hot as she could stand, she stripped and stepped in. The shower ran and ran as she tried to warm herself up, and scrub off the crawly feeling under her skin. Eventually, after succeeding at the former, she gave up on the latter. Pulling on a set of shapeless sweats, she sat on the bed. Although her gaze was fixed on the wall, the scene that replayed over and over in her mind was of Degross, staring at her as the life left his eyes.

The next morning, Rose found the Doctor in the console room, handed him his jacket, and asked him to teach her how to fight.

-----

_In the TARDIS gym..._

"All right. Now try to keep the same form, but add power. Hard as you can, then."

The Doctor braced the punching bag with his body.

_THUMP!_

_THUMP, THUMP! THUMP!_

Suddenly there was an inarticulate cry from the young woman, and the steady rhythm of jabs and uppercuts devolved into a furious flurry of disorganized hitting and kicking as she shouted out her rage and hurt.

The Doctor let out a sigh that was part relief and part pain, and carefully interjected himself between the overwrought girl and the defenseless bag, letting her pummel him because he probably deserved it and the bag definitely didn't.

Her taped knuckles pounded against his torso, and then her cries became sobs and her hands twisted the material of his jacket and shirt as she stumbled against him, burying her pale face against his chest as if trying to crawl inside him. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, supporting most of her weight as she sagged. Her tears were silent but shook her entire body.

"That's it. Let it out," he told the crown of golden hair tucked under his chin. "I've told you before that your tough girl act doesn't work on me."

Moments passed silently, then Rose drew in a ragged breath and looked up at him.

"I killed him," she said brokenly. "He was going to r-rape me, and I took a gun and _killed_ him. And then he was on the ground and his eyes were staring at me and I was _glad_ he was dead. Oh, god, what's wrong with me? I just _killed_ someone and I was _happy_ about it!"

"Stop," he commanded sternly, gripping her shoulders to make her look at him. "You saved yourself. You also saved my life, for which I am by the way rather grateful. Degross didn't have the right to take your body. Should you have sat there like a lamb at the slaughterhouse while he killed me and assaulted you, when you had the power to stop him? And what about the other girls, eh? What about them?"

She was still crying softly. "But-- but, to be glad that I'd done it--!"

"Rose, look at yourself! You are _not _presenting the picture of a cold-blooded killer," he said firmly, looking pointedly at her tear-stained face and the dark circles under her eyes. "Now will you PLEASE come to the medical bay and let me take care of those bruises," his voice lowered until she could barely hear him. "I can't stand to look at them."

She stared at him for a moment, trying to take in the truth of what he was saying. Another tear slipped down her cheek and she nodded, and let herself be led from the room.

The Doctor turned off the tissue regenerator and returned it to the tray beside the exam table. His companion seemed calm now, but distant.

"Do you want to go home, Rose?" he asked quietly.

She seemed to travel back to him from a great distance, but when her gaze focussed on his there was resolve in her eyes.

"No. Not because of this. Not because of Degross. He can't have that kind of power over me-- I won't let him." She reached out and took his hand, holding tight.

The Doctor closed his eyes and returned the grip, impressed all over again by his young friend.

As he helped her down from the table, he said, "Good. In that case, there's someone I'd like you to meet. An old, old friend. He's a soldier, and one of the wisest men I know, but don't tell him I said so-- he'd never let me live it down. He and his wife have a wonderful country house and they love visitors. We can take a little break there, and I think you'll get on with them them famously. But first I want you to eat something and get some sleep. Doctor's orders."

With a final squeeze of his hand and the ghost of a smile, she nodded and left the room.

FIN


End file.
